


Forbidden Kindness (December 11)

by Kireii-yume (kireii_yume)



Series: Kireii-Yume's Christmas Advent Calendar! [11]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Mention of cancer, and hospitals, anyway this got darker than i expected, i guess?, please avoid if that upsets you, sort of oc's?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kireii_yume/pseuds/Kireii-yume
Summary: Sombra is not usually allowed kindness. Los Muertos has never operated by kindness. But sometimes, Sombra must do what she receives nothing from.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This got a bit grim and I apologize for that but it ends happy, I promise! Please avoid if discussions of cancer and hopsitals make you uncomfortable. All Spanish is courtesy of a teeny bit of my knowledge and google translate so I'm sorry if it's wrong!

Sombra sat outside of the secure building, ignoring how cold the snow felt on her. In fact, she barely felt it as her fingers skirted across the keys of her laptop, keying in complex code. Normally she’d use her powers to simply hack her way into facilities, but this was a much more complex job. A mistake could mean death for thousands of innocents. Los Muertos said she wasn’t supposed to care, but she did, and nothing was going to be able to change that, so she might as well do her caring while no one was watching. As a result, she used her laptop, hunched under a roof and behind an electrical grid, piggybacking off the wifi (secure, but getting into a simple password protected wireless connection was not an issue for someone like her). Normal people wouldn’t think it was worth it. But normal people didn’t understand the sheer thrill of a hack. 

It took a few minutes, but Sombra made it into the main system. First she needed a list of information and its location in the database. That didn’t take long. The location was a long code and convoluted, but Sombra had learned to remember these things and specify exactly what she needed. However, now came the really tricky part—distinguishing what controlled which particular function. If she altered the wrong things, it could be disastrous. But if she found just the correct electronics, her mission would be complete. Sombra scrolled through lines of code, scanning for something that jumped out of her. Television sets. She needed television sets. Computer screens, monitoring software, security cameras, alarms, not what she needed. Plenty of screens would do the job, but some screens performed a function that she couldn’t turn off without alerting the whole facility and placing others in danger. Television screens were the safest bet. And finally, finally, she found it.

Now it was time to key in the messages. It didn’t take long once she found the correct place to display it, and all it took was some simple code. After she’d entered all the doors, it was as simple as keying in the basics. Anyone could do it. Just a tiny more finesse…and it was done. Sombra looked at her watch—there was a right time for this, and it didn’t come for about a minute. She examined her message, and decided it might be apt to add one line after her central message, to help get her point across. Chewing on her bottom lip slightly, she keyed it in, examined it one last time, and checked her watch one more time. Good. It was time. Sombra took a deep breath, sent up a silent prayer that she’d done this correctly, and pressed enter. The code rapidly scrolled across her screen and went back to normal. After exiting everything, leaving no trace, Sombra shut her laptop, pulled her collar up against the wind, and started to depart. As she left, she saw a few lights turn on in the rooms above. Hopefully it was due to her job well done and not due to a mistake on her part.

\----

Fatima lay awake in her room, staring straight ahead. The walls of the hospital were becoming much too familiar for her liking. She practically lived here. She knew every nurse’s name and all their schedules, and was more than used to the daily procedures. In fact, she’d learned what everything on the vital signs reader meant and exactly how her vitals changed from minute to minute. Actually, she’d even memorized how many tiles were on her room floor. Seventy five, she guessed, assuming the fragments of tiles that didn’t quite fit counted. She’d begin the treatments for her leukemia tomorrow, on December 25th. Christmas. Hopefully it would be a present rather than a futile attempt to save a dying child. Fatima was far more familiar with IVs and injections of all types than any nine-year-old had a right to be and she wanted to be done. But it was very difficult to have Christmas cheer. All the doctors talked to her mother in very serious voices, and more than once she’d seen her mother almost cry. Worry was everywhere and it hurt. And Fatima had to remind herself that it wasn’t worth hoping that Santa would come to this hospital, all the way in Mexico. Her room didn’t have a chimney, and she doubted that Santa would make it through hospital security. Sometimes people who wanted to see her, friends and family, didn’t even get to come in. Surely Santa wouldn’t be let in. So it was pointless to hope for a merry Christmas. And a nine-year-old, Fatima thought, was far too old to still be waiting for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. 

Suddenly, the television in front of Fatima began to go into static. She barely reacted, looking around for the control. Perhaps it had made its way onto her bed and as she shifted, trying to go to sleep, she might have activated it. But no, it was near her vitals monitor, and with her IV it would take some effort to reach it. The TV continued to display static, and Fatima was about to call a nurse and ask if something was going on, but soon the screen went black, and in red and green text, a message was displayed on the screen.

“Feliz navidad. Tener esperanza. –S” 

Fatima’s jaw dropped as she stared at the screen, and one tear ran down her cheek. The message didn’t go away. –S. It must be Santa Claus, Fatima thought. He came after all! He came! 

Nurses ran into Fatima’s room, checking all the vital monitors to make sure power was still running to those. But everything was fine, the girl in the bed next to her who was on life support had her machine still working well. While the nurses worked, the message still gently glowed on the TV screen. It had appeared exactly on midnight, exactly on Christmas. And though Santa couldn’t leave a present under a tree, Fatima loved what she had. Tener esperanza. Tener esperanza. She would remember that. She would remember.

And for the first time in a long time, Fatima smiled, and drifted peacefully off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [ blog ](http://kireii-yume.tumblr.com) to request new stuff!


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